Thus, as his Sense of Right directed, He lived both honoured and respected, Cherished his children and protected His duteous wife, And nought of diffidence deflected His useful life.
One mid-day, hastening to his Club, He spied beside a water-tub The owner of each plant and shrub A humble Bard Who turned upon the conscious grub A mild regard.
“Eh?” quoth the Wood-louse, “Can it be A Higher Power looks down to see My praiseworthy activity And notes me plying My Daily Task?—Not strange, dear me, But gratifying!”
To whom the Bard: “I still divest My orchard of the Insect Pest, That you are such is manifest, Prepare to die.— And yet, how sweetly does your crest Reflect the sky!
“Go then forgiven, (for what ails Your naughty life this fact avails To pardon) mirror in your scales Celestial blue, Till the sun sets and the light fails The skies and you.”
May all we proud and bustling parties Whose lot in forum, street and mart is Stand in conspectu Deitatis And save our face, Reflecting where our scaly heart is Some skyey grace.
“JAM HIEMS TRANSIIT”
When the wind blows without the garden walls Where from high vantage of the budding boughs The wanton starling claps his wing and brawls And finches to their half-erected house Trail silver straws; when on the sand-pit verges The young lambs leap, when clouds on sunny tiles Pass and re-pass, then the young Spring emerges From Winter’s fingers panoplied with smiles. So some bright demoiselle but late returning To her old home with new-acquirèd graces Learnt in some strait academy and burning To kindle wonderment in homely faces Smileth, while she who taught her all her arts, The dark duenna, with a sigh departs.